


Basic Anatomy

by Enchantable



Category: The Order (TV 2019)
Genre: Bean Bag Chairs, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, Massage, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-03
Updated: 2019-04-03
Packaged: 2020-01-01 13:04:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18334958
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Enchantable/pseuds/Enchantable
Summary: “A nerd and an idiot,” he says, “what else do you call me?”“You want a list?” She demands as he gets near her clavicle.“Sure,” he says, “lay back.”“Why?” She asks, immediately wary.“Your scapula are easer if you’re laying back,” he explains. She keeps looking at him warily, “No funny business. Promise.”“Like i’d let you get away with it,” she says, finally laying back.





	Basic Anatomy

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: Randall/Lilith anatomy

When she shifts again for the fifth time in as many minutes, Randall looks up from his book.

“You okay, Lil?” He asks.

“Fine. Shut up,” she says and shoves back against him.

He tenses so she has something to push against but after a moment she relaxes with a noise of disgust. Sitting back to back on the beanbag isn’t exactly new. Personal space isn’t really a thing when you run naked through the woods with each other on a regular basis. Randall’s never been touch shy, he likes hugging people in non perverted ways and is always clapping people on the back and stuff. Lilith wavers between rough affection and violent rejection. Hamish is the most touch shy. Randall’s long since learned to let Lilith lead when it comes to those boundaries. It’s more about counter-pressure than initiating affection most of the time. She’s been very clear about not wanting things to change and aside from some more physical contact they haven’t really. Memory wipes are aggravating like that.

“Can I help?” He offers.

“Shut up,” she repeats glaring at her book and rolling her shoulders uncomfortably.

It’s not a no so he sets his book aside. He touches her shoulders. She tried to tense more and he feels the muscles across her back spasm. Her jaw locks. He watches as Timber ripples under her skin. For a moment all he thinks about is their other Order member laying on the table. Dying. He can see how tight she’s holding herself, like if she doesn’t move things won’t happen. Timber ripples again and this time Grey focuses on where the hide is rippling. He touches along her the path and applies the slightest pressure. Lilith jerks away immediately, trying to turn to glare at him. That hurts though, he can tell and despite all the progress they’re making Lilith shoves back like she can press into the pain to show how she can take it.

“When did it start?” He asks.

“What? Are you diagnosing me now?” She says sarcastically. She rolls her eyes and shifts her weight in a classic Lilith move. “Right before I got taken. I threw something wrong.”

“You might have pulled something,” he says.

“Isn’t my hide supposed to fix that?” She says.

“The Order may have stopped it,” he tells her.

“So it’s not—“ she trails off, “because I was in the Order it’s not rejecting me?”

Her voice comes out smaller than he thinks he’s ever heard it. It makes something in him twist. He gets off the beanbag and crouches down before she can bolt. Lilith’s shrugged everything off and he knows better than to push her, but he’s also been waiting for her to open the conversation. She raises her gaze to his and stares at him defiantly. He’s long since learned to look past the defiance she wears like armor. But now knowing another piece of why she is the way she is, he’s discovering things anew.

“Of course not,” he says, “Jack knew and Silver picked him. Timber picked you.”

“Don’t compare me to him,” she mutters and he smiles. She looks at him with a scowl. “What about you? I was in the Order. They kidnapped you.”

“They kidnapped you too,” he says.

“You know that’s not what I’m talking about,” she says, her eyes darting to the scar on his shoulder.

“It just proves the Order is out of their minds,” he says, “getting rid of you? They must be crazy.”

He kind of loves seeing the red that creeps up her cheeks. Not because he likes seeing her in a situation she hates, but he likes knowing they’re in this together. He’s good at reading her, he knows she likes him but allowing that isn’t something she does well. She fights it and he can see even now her pride wars with what she wants. He doesn’t know how to show her being with him doesn’t mean giving up a fight. Not yet anyway. He thinks he can figure it out though. In the meantime he can take advantage of the momentary peace that comes with her believing him.

“What hurts?” He asks.

She sighs and he sees her skin ripple.

“It’s my shoulder,” she says, “the right side’s worse. But it’s just sore.”

“Got it,” he says and gets up, taking his place back on the beanbag but this time on his knees. She shifts her weight again but this time he knows the discomfort is not purely physical. He telegraphs his movements as best he can before laying his hands on her shoulder. She tenses immediately before blowing out a breath, forcibly relaxing. He works with it and moves his way down her arms and back up. He gathers her hair to her left side and she rolls her neck to give him better access. Timber helps by highlighting where he needs to focus. He can see her still forcing it. “Your infraspinatus is tight,” he says.

“You are suck a fucking nerd,” she says.

“A nerd and an idiot,” he says, “what else do you call me?”

“You want a list?” She demands as he gets near her clavicle.

“Sure,” he says, “lay back.”

“Why?” She asks, immediately wary.

“Your scapula are easer if you’re laying back,” he explains. She keeps looking at him warily, “No funny business. Promise.”

“Like i’d let you get away with it,” she says, finally laying back. He gets her so she’s got her head on his knees and her neck and back in the gap of the chair. She watches him warily and he smiles, eliciting another scoff and eyeroll from her before she closes her eyes, “i can feel you staring at me,” he chuckles but doesn’t deny it.

He’s always chalked keeping an eye on her as a carry over from their hides. Its not  unusual for champions to date, all the hides have been paired at some point. But Lilith is a different Timber and her challenging is well met by Greybeard’s bravery. And he can’t blame Hamish for mourning when she took the hide. Especially not now. He digs into her shoulderblades before she can question him and her jaw goes slack. As he works she arches away when he hits a sore spot but lands in his hands.

“Jesus. Fuck,” she swears.

“Should i—“

“Do not stop,” she growls and he digs harder in response.

By the time he’s finished she’s wiggled almost up to the tops of his thighs. She’s also more relaxed than he’s seen her since Jack came into their lives. He’s glad. He’s also trying to think of everything gross in the world in an effort not to show the effect of having the girl he’s harbored feeling for wiggling up his body swearing at him. She rolls over, looking at him with Timber’s eyes that fade into her own.

“Holy fuck, Randall,” she says pushing herself to her knees, “where the hell did you learn that?”

“Premed idiot,” he says pointing at himself. She swats his arm and leans back on her heels, “feel better?” She nods, “good. I’m glad I could help.” Before it gets  weird he turns around and grabs his book, setting it on his lap. He hears the snort she gives and feels the beanbag shift. She curls up against his back.

“You don’t have to be so chivalrous,” she says.

“I’m not,” he protests, turning towards her. She looks up at him. It’s hard to argue with her when she’s laying there all tan skin and inky hair. Randall has done a lot to stay away from being a college cliche. Somehow that’s gotten him through the last half year. Longer if he’s being honest with himself but especially since then, “i don’t want to take advantage—“

“Like you could,” she snorts.

“I wouldn’t,” he tries again. She shifts against the beanbag so more of her weight is against him. “Lil,” he begins.

“Tell me no,” she says. His mouth goes dry, “tell me you don’t want to.”

“That’s not—“ he starts and feels her tense, “Don’t make me lie,” he says finally.

She tilts her head to the side, looking at him carefully. Shame coils in him. Trying not to be that guy and being that guy are two very different things. Grey doesn’t run. Randall kind of wants to. Her hand grabs his chin and he snaps his head away, his tension echoing off his hide. He does a good job of controlling. He never snapped before the Order, not really. His eyes don’t turn. For him it always starts in the jaw. She doesn’t echo it as she lays there, completely fine with him baring his teeth like some monster. He shakes his head and wills his fangs back before looking at her.

“How long?” She asks finally.

“A lot longer than I’m proud of.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I didn’t want things to change either. And seeing Hamish—“ he trails off, waiting for the anger but she’s quiet, “and then I thought you were gone and I realized how dumb it was to never have brought it up,” he confesses, “I didn’t think you felt that way.”

“I didn’t,” she says. He closes his eyes, “not until the memory spell lifted,” he opens his eyes, “it felt like everything came back.”

“There’s a connection with memories and emotion,” he says.

“You are such a nerd,” she tells him.

“A nerd you like now,” he challenges.

“Shut up, Randall,” she mutters.


End file.
